


Ringlets & Roses

by ficcrosser



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Diary/Journal, Drama, F/F, Lesbian Sex, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2019-08-27 11:06:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16701319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficcrosser/pseuds/ficcrosser
Summary: Hermione has always been one of the boys. But what happens when she has to face her feelings for a certain sister of one of the boys? It's tough when everyone expects the world from her. This is Hermione's journal as she explores who she is and who she is becoming. One red-haired girl will be the end and the beginning of everything. Alternate 7th year at Hogwarts.





	1. Birthdays are best planned by the birthday girl

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first of a few chapters I've written so far. Let me know what you think, both positive and negative! I'm here to share my favorite daydreams and I want to make sure I'm doing the original works justice. I do not own any of these characters or settings.

Sunday, September 19, 1996

I’ve never much liked my birthday. But today was something else—something…well, I’m beyond words. The plans had been made and my boys corralled. It’s always best to plan one’s own party, isn’t it? For this year, a treat:

I came of age at a masquerade ball tonight. My dress was golden with sparkles and sunbeam ribbons. It hugged me in all the places I love to show off, though I’d never admit it to anyone else. It let the tops of my breasts breathe, feeling the cool air they aren’t allowed to otherwise. It squeezed my waist, the slight pinch energizing me with each movement. And it moved with me as I swayed, looping and curling about my ankles, making me feel as if I were dancing amongst the clouds. I felt grown up but I also felt young, full of life. 

The girls helped me set everything up. We enchanted the room to spin slightly, the ceiling to show the stars. The tables floated, and the wine glittered. The boys came late, as they always do. They spoke to boys, like boys, about other boys. Ron gave me a new pen. Harry, a box of candy from Fred and George’s shop. There was a table of baubles from friends. I do\n’t mean to be ungrateful, but the gifts were not for me, but for a friend prototype. A cookie-cutter friend. There was only one gift that meant more than that. Dear journal, I’m not sure even here is a place where I would dare speak what I fear I felt tonight. 

I danced with Ron once. He was sweet. It was clumsy and awkward, but that’s what a teen dance is, right? While we were dancing, Ron backed up too quickly and we bumped into poor Harry and Ginny. Ginny fell into me and I had to actually catch her so she didn’t fall. I felt her shoulder hit mine, and I reached out, catching her with one hand around her waist and with the other, I grabbed her hand. Her dress was slippery and her hand was smaller than I thought it’d be. Short fingers with a smooth, rounded palm. 

Anyway, she hurt her ankle when she fell, so I took her back to the common room with some ice from the party. I was about to spell away the sprain, but she clung to me when she fell in way that seemed to say she needed an escape. The boys thought it strange that we wanted to leave, but in truth, I needed the break as much as she did. I always like parties the best during the first half hour. My favorite part, in fact, is slinking away unnoticed. Always start the party. Never end it. My mother taught me that and I thought it ridiculous until I came to this school. Now I know what she means. There are fewer explanations, fewer mistakes made, fewer goodbyes or awkward discussions when you slip out before anyone’s seen. Usually I’m off to the library. It was nice tonight to have a friend to disappear with. 

I half carried Ginny all the way back to the Fat Lady, my arm around her waist as she supported herself on my shoulder. Her hair kept getting mixed in with mine. A calico mess. 

Back in the common room, it was empty. I suppose I’d invited more people than I’d realized. I set Ginny on the sofa and pulled over a stool for her foot. She fussed that she was fine, but she often does that. I’ve noticed. She tried to hold the ice on herself, but she cringed in pain when she had to bend it. So I did it. I held her foot in my lap, ice on her ankle. She had painted her nails for the night. A light pink that was innocent and sort of sweet. I can see what Harry sees in Ginny. She was beautiful of course, but everyone already knew that. It was her quiet force. Her surety in herself. She was strong and calm and open. I never felt more like the opposite of someone. I can be closed off, and I hide what I think and know. Most people think I’m a freak, so I don’t bother to open up to them. And I get angry where she stays calm. I feel insecure and stupid where she is so sure of herself. I wish I could be more like her. 

I sat there until long after the ice melted, holding her foot. It’s a good thing I was holding ice. I was too hot the entire time. I sat on the floor, and she on the sofa, and we chatted. We’ve never been great friends, but tonight we were closer than that for a while. We started out talking about the nail polish, but it got deeper quickly. 

We talked about life. About love. About the future. Did you know she always wanted to be a mom? I didn’t know that. I’m not sure what that would look like. We even had a deep talk about our relationships. Why do boys have to be so frustrating? Remember that feeling I wrote about a while back? The feeling of not being connected or on the same page as Ron. Ginny described the same feeling with Harry. It was reassuring and depressing. Is that all a relationship can be? 

We laughed—well and truly laughed—until we got serious. She told me about how she was ignored as the only girl in the family. She told me about all the rebellious things she would do at school, but be the good girl at home. I admitted to her everything about my parents. How they would never, could never, understand my life here. How lonely that was. How I knew I’d never belong where I was from after a classmate found me using magic to correct a teacher’s mistake on the chalkboard. She laughed at that. 

Ginny told me about a trip to the beach where she cut her foot on a shell and all her brothers entertained her until their father came to heal it. She made me look for it. I didn’t tell her that I had found it before she ever told me. I’m embarrassed to say, I found my finger drawn to it, feeling it over and over again, wondering about the story. I’m honored she shared it with me. 

When the boys got back we all hung out and then went to bed. Ron tried to get me to come upstairs with him but it was too perfect a night for sex. It was a night for innocence, not carnal pleasure. So I kissed him goodnight and went to bed.

Thinking back on the night, my being wants to explode, to do something I’ve never done. It might be the party or the wine or excitement of a day all about me, but I feel special and loved and warm. I feel like something has changed. Maybe it is just being a year older. Or officially an adult. 

The only thing I wish is that my parents could have been here to celebrate. I miss you mom and dad. I love you.


	2. Pros and Cons and Guardian Angels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I must have been more drunk than I thought. My entry from last night totally forgot to mention that Ron proposed. I said I’d think about it, and I’m making my usual pro/con list, but I don’t have many cons so far. This wasn’t exactly a surprise. Still, I thought I’d feel more important when it happened. I wish Ron had listened when I said I needed more time to decide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy! Comments and feedback always welcome! If you like this, make sure you let me know so I know to keep going. I don't own these characters or settings.

Monday, September 20, 1996

I must have been more drunk than I thought. My entry from last night totally forgot to mention that Ron proposed. I said I’d think about it, and I’m making my usual pro/con list, but I don’t have many cons so far. This wasn’t exactly a surprise. Still, I thought I’d feel more important when it happened.

Heading to the first quidditch match of the term to watch Ron and Ginny today. I was supposed to help Ginny sew up the hole in her quidditch robe, but I needed to get homework done so I left early to go to the library. I’m sure she didn’t really need my help anyway. She’s got lots of friends, after all. 

 

Thursday, November 9, 1996

My stomach dips and dives as I think about today. Thoughts swirl and collide with doubts, creating explosions in my head that cloud any common sense. Ron met me at breakfast, demanding an answer on the engagement. Sputtering a delay, I ran to class. I need more time to think. I wish he could understand that.

I thought he’d let it go, that he’d understand. That I need more time. But he didn’t. He kept pushing. I’d made my list, and although the pros had won, it didn’t feel that way. I couldn’t talk to Harry about it, since he and Ron were so close. I couldn’t talk to Ginny. She was his sister and besides, something felt wrong talking about it near her.

Ron grabbed my wrist and the end of class, cornering me until I answered. He smelled of mothballs and sweat. His face was redder than usual and his insistence showed his own insecurity, not mine. I knew that. I did. But he should have just listened. That’s all I asked. Just listen.

When I escaped him, I hurried back to my room. On the way, my eyes were on the floor so I wouldn’t have to see or talk to anyone, and I ran right into Ginny, literally knocking her to the ground. That’s all I can seem to be able to do around her. She saw my expression and I pushed past her. She followed me back to my room, banging on the door until at last I opened it. Light poured in from the hallway, her silhouette large and calming. There she was. My guardian angel. My friend. 

I sobbed too hard to explain, but she waited patiently with me, curled up next to me on the floor. She guessed it. I suppose Ron had told her about the proposal. She hugged me until I ran out of tears and ran out of fear. Her cable-knit sweater was warm and I felt guilty with each tear that fell on it. Her jeans intertwined with my bare legs. She was warm and smelled like shampoo and cotton. I’ve always liked that Ginny never wore perfume. 

I tried to give words to my panic, but it all came out a mess. All I know is that something feels wrong about getting married now. I don’t know who I am, what I want. I haven’t even started my life. I love Ron, I do. But why can’t we wait? 

Ginny didn’t say anything. She just listened and held me.

And that’s when I did something stupid, journal. Something I know I’ll regret. I may have ruined my friendship with Ginny entirely. I wasn’t thinking clearly. She smelled good, and she was there, and so kind. I was upset. I kissed her.

After I told her everything I could and she pulled me closer, I just looked up and saw her worried and soft face, and I wanted to reassure her. I wanted to offer those thin pale lips something. Without thinking, I leaned in and kissed them softly. When she didn’t pull away, I kissed them again. I must have been overly emotional because I thought she returned the kiss. We sat there, foreheads touching, and that’s when I noticed my hand in her hair. Had I been doing that the whole time and I hadn’t noticed?

That’s when I pulled back and apologized. She face looked pained and she excused herself and left. I didn’t go after her. What would I even say?

I was finally finding a friend who wasn’t Harry or Ron and who understood me. Now I fear I’ve ruined everything. I’m a puddle of slime oozing under the bed, hiding from the light, from anyone seeing me. She’s been my best mate the last few months. What if I become her sister-in-law? If I don’t marry Ron, will she think it’s somehow her fault?

I agreed to marry Ron over dinner. I didn’t eat anything. Ginny was nowhere to be seen and Harry said she went to bed early.


	3. A Brief Return to Normalcy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second to last quidditch game of the term and Ginny held out the entire game to continue her perfect season. Not my boyfriend fiance, on the other hand. Ron knocked in one of his own, losing the game for us. 
> 
> I love my boys, but sometimes they drive me nuts. We have been invited to some big dinner at the Weasley’s this week, and were supposed to go to Hogsmeade today to buy a gift for Molly. Both of them were so tired they went to bed after we finished. Now I’d have to go on my own and I’d barely have enough time to do that and get back in time for dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please like or leave a comment if you enjoyed it! I'm a bit insecure about this story, so let me know what you think.

Saturday, November 23, 1996

She really is brilliant! Second to last quidditch game of the term and Ginny held out the entire game to continue her perfect season. Not my boyfriend fiance, on the other hand. Ron knocked in one of his own, losing the game for us. 

The physics of how she moves is incredible. The games are my favorite thing to do now. We haven’t spoken since that night, but here, here I get to watch her. Here we are friends again. I can cheer for her, support her. I don’t have to worry about how she hates me here or whether my friends see me staring. 

After the game I can’t help myself. I ran up to her and gave her a huge hug. She seemed taken aback but hugged me back. I hate to admit what it might mean that her hand pressed to the small of my back gave me a jolt that made my cheeks flush. It felt good to be close to her again. Harry insisted on taking Ginny out for dinner with the three of us, but the team carried her off and went partying before we could all really chat. Harry and I walked back to dinner on our own. He seemed concerned that Ginny went without him and I couldn’t feel my feet. It was me. I was why she didn’t want to come to dinner. I was a secret between them. At least I think I was. 

“Hey, Harry?” I asked. He looked up from his dinner, which he was picking at as little as I was with mine. “How is everything? How are you and…Ginny?”

“Ok. She’s just been busy is all. We don’t have to spend every minute together, do we?” He spit back.

Well, he definitely didn’t know about what happened. But it didn’t help my sinking guilt. How will I ever live this down? I don’t know how to make this right.

 

Sunday, November 24, 1996

Harry and Ron went out last night without telling me, and got caught coming in. They were especially grouchy when I saw them this morning, so I helped them write the punishment essays on why their behavior was less than adequate. 

I love my boys, but sometimes they drive me nuts. We have been invited to some big dinner at the Weasley’s this week, and were supposed to go to Hogsmeade today to buy a gift for Molly. Both of them were so tired they went to bed after we finished. Now I’d have to go on my own and I’d barely have enough time to do that and get back in time for dinner.

In Hogsmeade, I did my errands and bought Mrs. Weasley some chocolates as a gift. I do worry about impressing her. What will she say about me as her daughter-in-law? My studies were coming to an end in a few months, and I’d need to know where I was going and what I was doing. And what Ron was going to do. I’d always wanted a job where I could read and think. I was less a fan of the constant risk-taking, and my years in school risking my life and those around me were all I needed, thank you.

Remus and Dumbledore had spoken to me over the summer about a post at Hogwarts. I’d have to go through a licensing exam, and I’d have to live at Hogwarts, not at home or with Ron. It was a dream, really. The chance to do my own research, to have a steady home full of learning. But maybe the boys were right. None of my friends would be there, and I was smarter than most of the professors there already. Is it just settling?

I have been trying to improve my relationship with Ron since his blow up about the engagement. I try to be a good girlfriend. I even let him teach me all about his favorite Quidditch players. It was more interesting than I had expected. 

On the way home, I passed by the bookshop and I couldn’t help dipping in. It smelled like must and leather. The best smell in the world. I ran my fingers along the edges of the spines. These were my truest friends. I came across a small, old book, “Quidditch Legacy: Past Endeavors, Participants, and Lore” and opened it up. First edition, 1654. How incredible is that?

I bought it for Ron, though it was way too much money. This could be his early Christmas present. 

At the edge of town, as I turned onto High Street, I passed by the Three Broomsticks and saw something a bit odd. A whole group of girls I recognized as half of the Quidditch team, were gathered around Madam Rosmerta as she told a story, standing on top of a table. The girls were laughing so hard they were falling over each other.

Suddenly, Madam Rosemerta pulled a girl up onto the table with her. Red hair. It was Ginny! I couldn’t believe my eyes. Ginny began participating in the story, dancing on the table and causing a raucous. This didn’t seem like the usual Ginny I knew. She was drunk. Very drunk. At least someone had fun today, I suppose. I left without seeing what she’d do next and headed back to take care of my foolish boys.

When I returned at 7, they were still asleep, so I let them be. I knocked on Ginny’s door before I went to sleep later that night, but her roommates said she hadn’t come home yet. I do hope she’s alright.

I wrapped Ron’s present. I’ll give it to him in the morning. I can’t wait to see his reaction.


	4. Thanksgiving, Giving, Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A full table and a hearty meal is the answer to all questions, isn’t it? We went home to the burrow for muggle Thanksgiving. It was a tradition Arthur Weasley picked up from work and Molly sent reminders to all of us for weeks that we were expected to come so she could feed us a proper meal.

Thursday, November 28, 1996

A full table and a hearty meal is the answer to all questions, isn’t it? We went home to the burrow for muggle Thanksgiving. It was a tradition Arthur Weasley picked up from work and Molly sent reminders to all of us for weeks that we were expected to come so she could feed us a proper meal. 

The four of us, Harry, Ron, Ginny, and me, used the floo from Dumbledore’s office and arrived in the living room of the burrow. Molly came running to greet us, enveloping all of us in a suffocating bear hug. It made me miss my dad, who would hug me the same way. The smell was heavenly. Warm butter, apples, cinnamon, a fresh bake. The table was jammed so tightly into the kitchen that there wasn’t room to get around it without a tight squeeze. The Weasley brothers were all there, and they immediately co-opted Harry and Ron to play out in the yard before it got too dark. 

Ginny and I were left with Mrs. Weasley, who set us to work peeling potatoes. As Mrs. Weasley worked, she left pots on the edge of counters and set towels next to open flames. Ginny followed behind her, moving the pots back, catching the towels before they caught fire. I could see what she had told me about growing up here. She fit. She was lovely. 

The best part was that every time she corrected one of her mother’s hazardous mistakes, she would look at me and roll her eyes. It occurred to me that she’d never had another girl there to commiserate with. It made me feel important. Special. I wanted to be that someone for her. I would keep my distance and let her define how we were. If we were friends, or just people who share the same friends sometimes. 

At dinner, we sat in age order, with Harry and Ginny on one side of the table, Ron and I on the other. I took off my engagement ring before we came. I needed more time to adjust to the engagement, and after weeks of nagging, I finally convinced Ron to go along with it. 

As per Mr. Weasley’s requirement, we went around the table, each sharing something we were grateful for. Ron said he was thankful for his quidditch score this term. Harry said for the honor of being invited here. Ginny said she was thankful for Harry, her best friend. They held hands and there was something weird there, but they didn’t share what. For a moment I worried that he had proposed as well, but there was no ring. And he would have shared it with us first. If nothing else, he would have needed my help planning it. Or at least, that’s what I told myself. I said I was thankful to have a family here that embraced me as I am. Ginny didn’t look at me when I said that.

After dinner, the boys went out again with Arthur to try to “grill” something. I heard them whispering something about dragons but I didn’t tell Molly. I normally would have tagged along but I stayed back to help with the dishes. Before she went to join the boys, Ginny passed by my chair. As she passed, she whispered something but I could have been mistaken. It sounded like she said, “I’m thankful for you, too.” Before I could turn to respond, she was gone.

As we washed, Mrs. Weasley asked me about school. Finally, Ron came up. So he’d told her about the engagement. 

“Don’t fret, dear. We could use some reason and patience in this family. Goodness knows, you’re headed for a bright future. I wouldn’t want to see anything come in the way of that. We’re always here.”

I felt my eyes get wetter as she spoke. I wanted to fit here like Ginny did. I wanted to spend every holiday here and come home to a mother-in-law who said things like this. If I did marry Ron, this would be the best part of the deal. Is that terrible?

Eventually, we stayed late enough that Mrs. Weasley convinced us to stay the night. The boys all crowded into two bedrooms upstairs, which left me and Ginny to share her room. We had done this before. Why did I feel so nervous about this?

I didn’t have any other clothing with me, or cosmetics, so I sat on the bed, figuring out how I was going to handle this. Ginny came in and closed the door slowly. The room shrunk by half. How could she be so far and feel so close to me? I heard my heart in my ears. I’m sure my cheeks were dark red. 

Ginny looked pink, but that could have been the heat in the house, or she could have been drinking outside. She saw me and froze. 

“I’m sorry. Is it ok that I’m…” I didn’t know how to finish my thought.

“I broke up with Harry.” She said it so low I didn’t believe it at first. 

I made her repeat it. “I broke up with Harry. A week ago. We’re broken up.”

I felt the bed fall from under me. This couldn’t be true. They were holding hands tonight. She said she was thankful for him. Her best friend. She said best friend. Not boyfriend. Best friend. How could this be? How could he not tell me?

She gulped so loud I hear it. “What do you think?”

I stammered. “I…I’m sorry. He didn’t say. He should have said.”

“Are you? Sorry?” She seemed so scared suddenly, so small. She was pressing herself flat against the door. I think if she could have floated through the door and disappeared she would have. I moved towards her.

“You’re my friend.”

“Am I?” She came at me, so she stood just before me, waiting, tears streaming down her face. “Is that what I am?”

I couldn’t help it. I saw the pain on her face and I had to try to take it away. I reached up and stroked her cheek, brushing away a tear. 

She laughed. I didn’t know why. Had I done something foolish? I backed away. I should go to bed and stay away from her and never talk to her again. Why do I keep doing this?

Ginny went to the closet. “You need pajamas?” She didn’t look at me as she said it.

“Thank you.” 

As I pulled back the covers, I felt her hands at my hips from behind. I froze. I turned to face her. There she was. That beautiful face, the edge of her soft cheek illuminated by the moon. Freckles like stars. Hair that looks like fire itself. 

She kept her hands on my hips and looked searchingly at me. “Is this ok?” She whispered.

It didn’t occur to me what I was doing at that moment. It didn’t occur to me that this would permanently affect my relationship with Ron. I would have done it even if it had, because in this moment, with her, I fit. I belonged. I wanted her to be part of me. I craved it.

I nodded my head and smiled. Ginny moved her hands under the edge of my jumper and pulled it up over my head. This time it was me searching for her reaction.

“God, you’re beautiful.” She seemed as surprised as me by her own reaction.

Her hands dropped the jumper, fingers delicately exploring my stomach. Circles swirling around my belly button, a tickling tingle that left me speechless and aching. Her touch burned with a searing intensity. If I didn’t touch her, I thought, I might explode.

I yanked her close, one arm around her waist, the other brushing through her hair.

“I want to kiss you.” Were those my words or hers? It was hard to tell us apart in the fog of desire. It didn’t matter. Our lips found each other and wouldn’t let go.

She laughed, which made me laugh. I kissed her gently, still laughing, sobering her. She pulled me in hard, offering her passion in full. I could feel the shape of her against me. Her perky breasts and the fuzziness of her sweater. The edges of her hip bones and the hollow spot just inside them. I could feel the full weight of her and she drank me in. How has she been holding this back? How have I?

As she kissed my neck, I gripped the back of her head so she couldn’t get away from me. She bit my collarbone, and nothing’s felt sexier. My other hand, on fire next to her skin, reach up under her jumper, unclasping her bra and sliding my fingers underneath. Her nipple was on fire, hard as rock, and I grazed the goosebumps all over her breast. I squeezed, feeling the flesh between my fingers. Ginny moaned, biting harder and pushing her hips into mine with force. I ripped off her jumper with one hand, clawing at it as it got stuck on her chin.

Ginny slid her hands down the back of my trousers, pulling herself closer against me. A wave rose up in me. It was nothing like anything I’d felt before. My palm cupped her breast, the weight of it in my hand soft and comforting. I leaned into her, smelling dirt and smoke on her hair. It smelled like home. I pinched her nipple hard, and found her mouth with my own, swallowing her gasp. I pulled back to look at her, flush and mussed. 

“Fuck me.” Ginny said it was no humor, but with sincere intensity.

Suddenly, my mouth was on hers with a hunger I didn’t know I had. She pulled my hair, fingers knotted in my curls, pulling me closer into her. Her hands roamed my body in a hurry. Everywhere was a series of jolts, electricity circulating, growing stronger and stronger.

She found the edge of my trousers and worked hurriedly at the buttons, yanking at them. I leaned down and sucked on her nipple, letting my tongue trace the curve between her breasts. She tasted like salt and outside. When I felt my trousers hit the floor, I picked her up, spun her around, and dropped her on the bed. She laughed and wrapped her legs around me, trapping me in a delightful way. 

I leaned in again, pinning her wrists above her as I kissed her neck, her collarbone, her ears. I took my time, exploring every rise and fall of her flesh. Her heartbeat my rhythm. I ran my hand down her stomach, stopping at the top of her jeans, and felt a shiver from her. 

“Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” Ginny moaned in ecstasy. Suddenly my loins were on fire. I laughed, and kissed her again. She took advantage of my position and rolled me over, kneeling on top of me. She sat up and just looked at me, a half-crooked smile on her reddened face. Her hair was a mess and knotted and sexy as hell.

I took the elastic off my wrist and leaned up, tying back her hair as gently as I could, wrapping the strays behind her ear. She grabbed my hands, pinning them to the bed and leaning over me. 

“Who said you could get up? I’m admiring you.”

I smiled. I’d never seen this side of Ginny but it made me burn for her. I wanted her. Badly. “And?"

Ginny’s smile fell. She was so serious I wanted to cry. “Absolutely lovely.”

She was just saying that. She couldn’t mean it. Not really. Suddenly, I needed to move. “So I’m your prisoner?” I teased.

Ginny slid my hands above me, kissing me hard. I could feel her pelvis grind into mine, and I rose to meet her. Her hand slipped below my panties, just lightly grazing my wetness. I gasped, unable to breathe with want.

KNOCK, KNOCK. 

Oh, fuck. We both froze, not daring to breathe.

“Girls? Have everything you need for the night?” It was Molly, checking in. Please don’t open the door. Please, please, don’t open the door. “Girls? Is everything alright?”

Ginny pulled her hand away, leaving me cold and wanting, scrambling to cover herself with her small hands. “Yes, mom. Goodnight.”

“Are you sure you don’t-“

“No!” Ginny cut her off. “We’re fine. Goodnight.”

We waited, heart in our throats, until we heard her walk down the hall. I pushed Ginny off of me, and reached for my sweater. 

“What was I thinking?!” I chided myself. I hadn’t realized it was out loud until I saw the look on Ginny’s face. She looked like I’d slapped her. What had I done? I wanted to comfort her, kiss it better, but reality was quickly creeping up on me. How could I ever explain this to Ron? How could I hide it? What would Mrs. Weasley think of me if she saw this?

“I thought-” Ginny started as she put on pajamas to cover herself. 

Against my own efforts and desire, I spit back, “No. We didn’t. We didn’t think and look what happened.”  
Ginny said nothing, getting dressed and moving to the far side of the bed. I thought I might puke with the tension. I felt guilty for cheating on Ron. For leading along Ginny. For betraying the trust of my friends and family. What the hell was I thinking. I’m not even gay.

Once in pajamas, I got into bed, careful to keep as much distance as possible between me and her. Between me and my fears. I laid down facing the door and stressfully tried to will myself into sleep.

After a few minutes I heard a sniff. I felt the bed start to bounce from her sobs. I tried to ignore them. She would fall asleep and forget all about this. She regretted it now, but she’d be fine.  
She cried for what felt like forever. I couldn’t lay there and do nothing. I couldn’t stand causing her this much pain. She’s still my best friend.

I sat up, grabbing my pillow. I could sleep on the couch downstairs and leave her in peace. Swinging my legs off, I felt a warm clutch on my wrist.

She was reaching behind her, not willing to let go of me. I touched her hand in the hopes of removing her, but when my fingers interlaced with hers, I knew I wasn’t going anyway.

She pulled my hand across and into her chest. I gave in, curling my body around hers, pulling up the covers, feeling a bit scalded by her heat. I could feel a few silent sobs move through her. She didn’t want me to see her cry, but in truth, she was just as beautiful.

I laid my head in the crook of her shoulder, reaching up to wipe away a tear from her raw cheek. She collapsed into me, sobbing harder. I held her tightly. The world and its awfulness would have to wrestle her from my arms. For now, I was her knight, her protector, her safe haven so she could fall apart. 

“Shh.” I cooed. I stroked her arms, interlocking our legs, and kissing her hair. “Shh.”

I laid wide awake until I felt her fall asleep, getting heavier and heavier in my arms, until she surrendered to dreams. I brushed her hair with my fingers, imagining and wishing for all the good dreams she could be having in that moment.

I didn’t sleep all night. The consequences of what I’d done ran through the hollow halls of my mind, spinning and yelling over and over again. There must be some good way out of this, but my mind found only the worst. When the beginnings of daylight shone through the curtains, I laid Ginny on the pillow, pulling my arm carefully from her so she wouldn’t wake. I silently changed back into my own clothes, folding and leaving the pajamas on the bed, and tip-toeing to the door.

I left a note for everyone, saying that I had forgotten a big assignment and needed to get back to do my readings. I took floo powder from above the fireplace, looked around one last time—at the clean dishes Mrs. Weasley and I did together, at the table where Ginny sat across from me, at Ron’s coat she had bought for him last Christmas. Gulping down my emotions, I threw the powder down.

“Hogwarts.” I whispered.


	5. The Deviant Tale of Dr. Hilda Paulie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When I arrived back at Hogwarts, I went to the only place I knew I could clear my head. The library. I could lie and say I did extra work for class, but I didn’t. I went straight to the restricted section and found a book that may just help me figure things out. “Witch Bitch: The True and Deviant Tale of Dr. Hilda Paulie and her Influence on Wizarding Laws. Told by Dr. Paulie herself”.

Friday, November 29, 1996

I have ruined everything. My happiness, Ron’s, Ginny’s, even Harry’s. I’m a monster. A selfish, thoughtless monster. 

When I arrived back at Hogwarts, I went to the only place I knew I could clear my head. The library. I could lie and say I did extra work for class, but I didn’t. I went straight to the restricted section and found a book that may just help me figure things out. “Witch Bitch: The True and Deviant Tale of Dr. Hilda Paulie and her Influence on Wizarding Laws. Told by Dr. Paulie herself”. 

It was a book I’d seen before, as Harry and Ron and I had browsed in years past. Ron had picked it up and read a page out loud about Dr. Paulie’s escapades with young witches who worked for her. 

“Now I see why they lock these in here.” That was what Ron had said. I can only imagine what he’d say if he found out about last night.

I opened the book, and a groan of pleasure rang out. Clearly, the author had a bit of cheek. I blushed and looked around, but it was much too early for anyone else to be here. 

As I sat reading, I both hoped everyone would leave me alone and that someone would find me and ask me all about what had happened. But first—I had a lot to figure out on my own. Like what to do about Ron, and how I was going to live with myself for cheating. 

The book was sexy, but became deeply disturbing. It recounted multiple affairs of Dr. Paulie and her dalliances (if you can call them that). Apparently, the Doctor, ruler of a small country during the 1500’s, believed that consent didn’t exist if you had enough power. She began as a princess of a muggle family, who, when she found out she was a witch, used her powers to woo other young women. Later, as a powerful woman in her 50’s, she would assert her power on her young maidens by freezing them into poses, like dolls, and then screwing their brains out with every toy and tool imaginable. I got a stomach ache reading about her, but also some ideas that sounded fun. Was I like her by doing that to Ginny? She was younger, and I made the first move. Didn’t I? I hated that the question even entered my mind. I hope Ginny knows that I'd never intentionally hurt her. Yesterday was...an accident.

I kept reading and learned how to pleasure a woman with just your tongue, and how to set the bodies nerves aflame with a single spell, and how to kiss so someone can feel it in their toes. This was no reading I'd ever done before and I wasn't sure what the butterflies in my gut meant. I was just about to give up reading the book when I came across what I hadn’t realized I needed: Dr. Paulie’s words on her first love, with a moving painting of the two of them. Both women looked about my age. They stood in the woods, one foot each on a hunting kill. Paulie was hitching up her fine skirts and had men’s pants on underneath. She looked so innocent, so happy. Not at all like the monster she had clearly become later. The girl next to her – her name isn’t given—is turning from the painting shyly, leaning into Paulie’s shoulder. Her arm is linked around her waist, and she is clinging to the stronger girl. Paulie kisses the top of her head and giggles every so often. 

Below the painting, it reads:

To my loveliest,   
The friendship you gift me with each passing breath strengthens me in ways I know not. Nor your eyes, shine though they might, nor your breast, heave though it does when my tongue caresses you, nor your mind, play me and please me though it does, nay, your ever fixed attention is what draws me to you every moment. A day does not pass that you do not show me understanding and grace. Your body may excite my loins, your intelligence my curiosity, but your soul keeps mine in good company, and that, my lady, is the peace I will forever hold most dear. I writhe in most painful angst at knowing I shall not have you for all of time. I love you.

H.

“Your soul keeps mine in good company, and that, my lady, is the peace I will forever hold most dear.” Something about this quote made me feel calm again. This is the kind of love I want. Lust and comfort aren’t enough. Just then, I felt a plan formulating.

I would step back and continue dating Ron, that way I can keep things as normal as possible while I figure out what (and who) really makes me feel the Paulie did about her first love. I think I’ve been so caught up in finally having a year when we aren’t chased by death eaters, or trolls, or Voldemort himself, that I’ve forgotten to let myself ask for what I need.

I returned the book and wrote down my plan, complete with a checklist of pros and cons for Ron, Ginny, and being single. Checklists always make me feel better. I heard a couple students come in and begin making out a few rows away, so I packed up and headed back to the common room. 

Inside, Ginny, Ron, Harry, and Fred and George were all laughing about something, huddled around the table. When I walked in, George hid something, but when he saw it was me, he revealed something that looked awfully like a Jack-in-the-box. Goodness knows what they were doing with that. Ron called me over, and I gladly sat next to him, ready to start my plan.

“Assignment all finished?” Ron asked, arm around my shoulder.

I nodded and smiled. “I’ve got some more research to do, but I’ve got a good start, I think.”

“Alright, alright. Now, ‘Mione, we were just showing everyone our new invention.”

Before Fred could finish, Ginny excused herself and left, without so much as a look at me. My stomach dropped. It’s fine, I told myself. I can’t give in to desire until I know the rational answer to my relationship with her. I tried to focus back on my friends, without much luck. Ron kept his arm around me as we talked. Pro for Ron: relaxed and comfortable. Con for Ginny: emotional. Still, I couldn’t help but picture what it would be like to use that tongue trick on her. Is that a pro or a con?

Stop it, Hermione! Now is the time for reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These characters are not mine. Please give kudos and comments! I love any and all feedback!


	6. Absence Makes the Heart Grow...Sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny:   
> Pro: Sexy. Obvious reasons. 
> 
> Ron:   
> Pro: Loves me.
> 
> Ginny:  
> Con: She’s a Weasley. If we were ever a couple, I’d lose the closest thing I have to family.

Monday, December 2, 1996

Ginny: 

Pro: Sexy. Obvious reasons. Particular focus on eyelashes, hair, hips.

Pro: Kind. Helped the first year when he spilled his ink all over himself in potions

Pro: Her laugh. Couldn’t help laughing when she told a joke in class that was definitively NOT funny to Professor Slughorn.

Con: Sexy. Exhausted all day because I didn’t sleep last night. Couldn’t stop thinking about what it’d be like if we were together for real. Holding hands. Cuddling while doing our readings. Random kisses as we pass each other doing chores in a home of our own.

Con: Complicated. She smiled at me in class but ignored me when I tried to speak to her. I have no earthly idea what to do around her. I feel like an idiot.

 

Ron:

Con: Insensitive. Laughed at the bags under my eyes this morning. 

Pro: Loves me. After he laughed at the bags under my eyes, he kissed me and made a dirty joke about him loving raccoons. 

Pro: No drama. I always know how he feels, what he thinks. I know where I stand with him. He’s easy. We just work together.

Con: Inattentive. I know he means well, but he and Harry and I took food from the Great Hall and went to eat by the lake, since it was fairly warm out. He and Harry spent the entire time arguing about who the best quidditch player is. I tried every other subject, but they kept coming back to it. Even he-who-must-not-be-named didn’t make the cut.

Pro: He’s a Weasley. They have their problems but getting the Weasley family in the deal makes me feel like the luckiest girl in the world. They are the sweetest, most welcoming family and I’d love to have them as my family.

 

Tuesday, December 3, 1996

Ginny:

Con: She’s a Weasley. If we were ever a couple, it would make things awful with Ron, with Mrs. Weasley, with everyone. I’d lose the closest thing I have to family. We could never be together. It makes me stomach turn to think about it, but there’s no easy way out. This could never work. 

What was I thinking…

 

Thursday, December 5, 1996

I’ve spent the last two days sick in the hospital wing. I don’t usually get sick but this time I feel just awful. I tried to sneak out yesterday to make it to my Arithmancy presentation but passed out on the way there and woke up again in the hospital wing. I’ve been working for months on the presentation. I can’t believe Madam Pomfrey doesn’t have something that will help. At least for an hour! I’m so mad at myself.

Molly, Arthur, and Dumbledore all visited. Concerned about the Dark Lord, they wanted to check that this wasn’t some kind of interference from him. They tried to get me to give up this diary to check if I’d done anything unusual I didn’t remember, but I used a spell to hide you. Thank goodness. If anyone ever saw you, I’d be ruined. 

Dumbledore wants to meet with me tomorrow, if I’m feeling up to it. It’s probably just a Head Girl check-in. 

Ron left a half-eaten box of chocolates for me, which made me laugh. I can only assume he got hungry as he waited for me to wake up. Madam Pomfrey said Harry spent most of the day at my side, though I’ve been sleeping so much I only vaguely remember seeing him. He really is a sweetheart.

I need to go get my work from the dorms. Maybe I’ll sneak out again after dark, when Madam Pomfrey’s gone to bed. 

 

Friday, December 6, 1996

I slept through the night, so I didn’t get a chance to sneak out. Turns out, I didn’t need to. I woke up to my schoolwork, bath products, and my favorite pajamas waiting by the side of my bed. I can’t believe Ron was so thoughtful. It really made my morning. 

I’m feeling well enough that Madam Pomfrey allowed me to do some work in bed. I’m supposed to be released tomorrow, if all goes well. 

Harry stopped by to bring me some real food from dinner. Ron had a quidditch match, so he couldn’t come. We just sat and chatted, like we used to. We talked about growing up in a muggle world, and all the adjustments we still forget about being magical. We both still forget to check whether the plants and animals in a room are listening before having conversations. We both find ourselves brushing our hair, rather than spelling it. It made me feel like I was a kid again. I asked him about Ginny, but he got weird. He told me if I wanted to know about what happened between them, I’d have to ask her. It’s the dignified answer, but odd for Harry. I hope he’s ok. He’s got to be lonely.

I know I shouldn’t mention it, but there’s been no sighting of Ginny. I shouldn’t expect anything. She doesn’t owe me anything. Still, to me, her absence seems like a gaping hole. I was hoping that maybe we could still be friends, but it’s seeming more and more like I’m losing even that. Is she mad or does she just not care about me? I suppose I deserve either one.

Not that it matters anymore, but for the record, I finished my tallying.   
Ron: Pros: 12, Cons: 14  
Ginny: Pros: 21, Cons: 5 (granted, a HUGE 5)

 

Friday, December 6, 1996

Had my meeting with Dumbledore last night, and it was NOT about Head Girl duties. He’s offered me an official position and mission with the Order of the Phoenix. I would continue my schoolwork at Hogwarts, and then from Thursday through Sunday, I would go undercover to the Durmstrang Institute. Apparently, there’s been an outbreak of students becoming Deatheaters and the Order needs to know who is getting them to join. 

It’s incredibly dangerous, and Dumbledore made it clear I could say not. Molly and Arthur argued that I shouldn’t be allowed to do it at all. Remus was the one who finally convinced Dumbledore that I could handle myself. I don’t want to let him down. 

Normally, I’d worry about how this will affect my coursework, but for the last few days, I’ve felt so removed from everything—like it doesn’t even matter anymore. 

I’m talking like I’ve already said yes. Dumbledore made me think about it over the weekend.

Ron has been lovely lately, but busy with quidditch and his team. I’d miss hanging out with Harry, but he has other things in his life. Ginny, who I once would have hung out with every weekend, hasn’t been around and doesn’t want to see me. Still, it would feel wrong to just run away.

Dumbledore made it very clear that this mission must be secret. I’m not to tell Harry or Ron, or anyone, or my cover at the other school could be found out. It’s less dangerous to keep it from them, but I’d be an awful friend. 

If I’m honest with myself—well and truly and painfully and embarrassingly honest—I’m still holding out hope Ginny will come around. If I’m gone four days each week, there’s no way she will. I have to know by Monday, so the decision must be made this weekend. 

I’m going to tell her. I’ve always valued Ginny’s advice and I trust that she won’t tell anyone. I’ll tell her and if she wants me to stay, I will. If she wants me to go, well, then I’ll know.

I've got to tell her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own any of these characters. But I do love comments and kudos! :)


	7. No Sleep for the Wicked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I couldn’t sleep last night in anticipation. I spent the whole time tossing and turning, practicing what I would say to her when I told her my feeling and how she would respond. My anxiety made me replay the situation dozens of times. But my nightmares had nothing on the real thing.

Saturday, December 7th. 1996

I couldn’t sleep last night in anticipation. I spent the whole time tossing and turning, practicing what I would say to her when I told her my feeling and how she would respond. My anxiety made me replay the situation dozens of times. 

I could start with something cute, like “Hey Gorgeous, wanna grab dinner sometime?” but that could be vague about the whole more-than-friends. I tried to think of cheesy pick-up lines, but they were all absolutely dreadful. Besides, Ginny doesn’t seem like the kind of girl who appreciated pick-up lines. That’s not what this was.

I settled on just admitting my feelings and letting her respond. It’s the most terrifying of approaches, but I owe her the honesty and if we’re ever to have a real shot, we both need to be on the same page. Still, the possible range of her responses scared me to death. What if she yelled and told me I was a jerk and she wouldn’t give me another chance? Or worse, what if she laughed? Maybe she never liked me at all and she doesn’t want to talk about it. She just went through a breakup. Is it insensitive to bring this up right now?

I would just have to take this chance. Or so I thought.

I spend way too long getting ready, trying different spells on my hair and a luminosity spell to give my skin some color, after all the long midnight library sessions I’d been taking. I headed down to breakfast, but Ron and Harry must not have been up yet. Most of the Gryffindor girls were already down there and chatting away—after all they had planned a house spirit day full of events like quidditch scrimmages, scavenger hunts, and potion makeovers. Ginny and I had helped plan today, and a few weeks ago I would have been excited for today. 

The girls were going on about a butterbeer drinking contest to start the day, something I advocated against. Having students drunk and performing spells on each other seemed like a bad idea, but I was alone on that opinion. Ginny would be there. She was one of the girls who had started the idea. 

So, I went to Hogsmeade. I used the underground tunnels by the shrieking shack, and I hurried. I needed to get this over with. I couldn’t take the waiting anymore. When I got there, I came in the back way through Hogsmeade. I didn’t want any professors who might be in the area to see me participating in the drinking, and I didn’t want anyone else to know my true mission.

I didn’t see her at first. The place was a mess of girls, laughing and singing. There was a girl on one of the tables dancing, and she pulled up a girl telling a story in the middle of a gaggle of girls. It was Ginny.

“And then me mum almost walked in!” The girls gasped as she said this. It couldn’t be. She wouldn’t tell them that! “It made me realize what a horrid mistake it all was, and when I tried to let her down easy, she cried and left. Must really be hung up on me, I guess.” 

When I heard her say this to dozens of my fellow students, in a pub, to everyone, my stomach dropped. I froze and I couldn’t even find the guts to leave, fearing someone might notice me if I moved. I wanted to disappear and never been seen again. 

And then she saw me. Ginny. Twirling around laughing, drink in her hand, she caught my eye. She stopped laughing and looked surprised, then upset. When I saw her frown, I realized I was crying. My face flushed. Not only was I just humiliated in public, but now she’d seen me crying. My nightmares from last night were nothing compared to reality.

She hopped down from the table and started toward me. I found the strength to move my feet again, and as soon as I made it outside, I ran as fast as I could. I didn’t look back, and she didn’t catch me. She probably didn’t try once I left. 

I ran straight to Dumbledore’s office and told him to sign me up for Durmstrang. So, journal, tomorrow I will become a new student at Durmstrang. My name is Henny Grant. Henny, a nickname from my father when I was small, and Grant being my mother’s maiden name. I’ll be starting as a transfer student whose parents took me traveling while they did magical medical research. 

Dumbledore gave me new robes that don’t have my Gryffindor insignia on them. They are bright red and purple. I had hoped for something less noticeable but that’s the point. He wants me to be seen so I can attract the attention of the death eater students. I know I should be scared of what I’m about to do, but I’m not scared. I need a new place where no one knows me. I need to be away from here, even if it’s only for a few days. I can’t wait for tomorrow.

I gave Harry and Ron my excuses—that I’m going to be interning at St. Mungos. They congratulated me but didn’t ask any questions. Tomorrow was the first Sunday they didn’t have a Quidditch match, but I don’t know that I could handle sitting around and chatting. I could barely hold together a brave face talking to them tonight.

I knew Ginny would be up in the girls’ dormitory, and I knew I couldn’t handle seeing her or any of the other girls who now knew the story of my confusing and humiliating cheating on Ron with his sister. I’d always been the good girl, the good student, the smart one. Now what was I? I have to claim to those titles anymore. I’m just a bad friend.

I begged Hagrid to let me stay the night, and the angel he is, he gave me his hut and Fang, while he slept in the forbidden forest. I made myself a cup of tea and crafted my backstory for when I arrived at Durmstrang. Fang snored, laying on me, but I’ve been up all night. I don’t even feel tired. I just keep telling myself, tomorrow is a new day. Especially new for me.


	8. Distance Makes the Heart Grow Cooler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear journal, I’ve so much to tell you. I don’t know where to start! I got back tonight from my first venture to Durmstrang. Truth be told, I didn’t want to come back. In fact, Professor Lupin had to convince me to come back, but I get ahead of myself. Let me start from the beginning.

Wednesday, December 11th, 1996

Wow, how has it been only three days?! Dear journal, I’ve so much to tell you. I don’t know where to start! I got back tonight from my first venture to Durmstrang. Truth be told, I didn’t want to come back. In fact, Professor Lupin had to convince me to come back, but I get ahead of myself. Let me start from the beginning:

Sunday morning, I woke to a note by my bed, along with a healing potion, a memory potion, and a box of my favorite chocolates. The note was from Dumbledore, saying that my things had already been sent ahead, that I should take a thestral from Hagrid, and the thestral would take me to the start of my mission. He also wrote that I “should find not every face unfriendly” when I arrived. He didn’t mention the potions. I presume they are just standard issue with a mission as dangerous as this one.

Anyway, I avoided breakfast. I’m sorry I wouldn’t get to say goodbye to my boys before I left, but the thought of facing my own personal you-know-who was too much to stomach. She was probably up all night laughing with the girls at my reaction in Hogsmeade. This whole thing has become the worst thing I’ve ever done. But enough on that. I don’t want to ruin the thrill of this weekend with it. 

I snuck out to Hagrid’s shed and the only person who saw me on the way was Professor McGonagall, since I had to pass her office. She looked up when I walked by, gave me a knowing nod of approval, and went back to writing at her desk. Hagrid teared up as I mounted the thestral—not my favorite means of travel, by the way! I convinced him I’d be fine, but my hands wouldn’t stop shaking, and though I hadn’t eaten in a whole day, I wasn’t hungry. It didn’t help riding the death-mobile that was a thestral. How anyone can think that entertaining is beyond me! I nearly died every few moments! I must have almost strangled the poor thing with my grip. 

The view, I must admit, was just incredible! Durmstrang is stunning, and so different from Hogwarts. I landed in the bushes about a half-mile from the school, but the craziest thing is I don’t remember how I entered the school after that. It must be some spell to ensure the school’s safety. I imagine it will become quite tedious to have to figure it out again each week. The school is eerie and mystical, and darkly sexy. The castle is atop a tall island in the middle of a lake. The lake itself steams with fog and is surrounded by ice-capped mountains. On the water are at least a thousand sailing ships, only the masts visible above the fog. Up on the island, there is one sole fire to light the main door, and the dark is so dark that even during the day, it’s difficult to see the top of the castle. I should have been scared by it, but it was alluring. I wanted to be the dark force that hides in the fog. 

There was no big welcome when I arrived, to which I am eternally relieved. A harsh but young and commanding woman greeted me at the front door, told me I had 20 minutes to dinner, and showed me to my dorm where my things were waiting. She made it quite clear that rules are king there. Dinner is at 18.00, no exceptions, no lateness. You miss a class or are tardy and the consequences are severe. Journal, finally a school with rules that mean something! I know Ron and Harry would laugh at me for being uptight and a brown-noser, but they’ve never understood the need for rules. Rules may be difficult sometimes, but they mean that fairness prevails. If you have to stick to a rule, so does your enemy. All I’d have to do here was look for the rule-breakers and I’d find the death eaters. 

At dinner, no one greeted me like I was new. They were polite, but it was as if I had always been there. No one asked otherwise. I wondered if this was some kind of spell Dumbledore had put on me before I left. I learned that the woman who had greeted me was Professor Hassan, the Charms teacher. I recognized Professor Karkaroff from his visit to Hogwarts, and he looked as mean as ever. No one made eye contact with him, looking away when he was close. He ate in silence, watching the students like a hawk on the prowl, waiting for a kill. As per the rules, dinner was silent, which made it easy to blend in. The only noise was the silverware tapping. No one got up, no one left. The food was warm and cozy with sweet sauces to accompany everything. The meatballs were my favorite. They reminded me of my mom’s cooking. 

I looked around but didn’t see Viktor. I didn’t know how he would respond to seeing me, but Dumbledore assured me I need not worry about him blowing my cover. At exactly 18:45, a bell rung from nowhere. The food disappeared, and every student rose in sync. Karkaroff exited the hall, and the entire mood shifted. Students broke out in conversation, moving benches to sit and chat or leaving in groups towards the dorms. The school didn’t seem to have multiple houses, like Gryffindor or Slytherin, and there was only one set of dormitories. Suddenly, girls swamped me, wanting to know my name and where I was from. 

I felt bad for lying to these nice girls, but it was a bit of a relief to be someone else. I explained my backstory, and they asked me all about my travels. I’m glad my research the last few days paid off! Three girls in particular took my into their group and offered to show me around the first few days and take me to class in the morning. The Order would be happy. In one evening, I managed to meet a third of the girls at Durmstrang! I wrote a list of their names that night and tucked them in here to give to Dumbledore upon my return.   
My two new friends are named Gwyneth and Ebba. Gwyneth is tall, really tall, and she is charming but doesn’t offer much about herself. She’s one of those people who is genuinely interested in everyone around them, preferring to ask questions than answer them. She is as pale as a ghost and fits every Swedish stereotype. Ebba is opposite. She’s short but you can tell she’s a serious athlete, and her skin is a gorgeous deep black. She is all smiles and loves to tell stories about the academic competitions she’s won, how she beats all her brothers at everything, and stories about being the only African girl in Bulgaria. She wants to be an auror, like Harry, which makes me feel like I’m home.

My classes are quite different, as well. I still have subjects like Charms and Potions, but we have Dark Arts instead of Defence Against the Dark Arts, and we have Deportment and Character instead of any electives. Everything is much more structured here than Hogwarts, with everyone adhering much more to the rules. Some seemed to thrive on the rules, and there were a few that seemed somewhat reluctant about them. I made note of those few and plan to learn more about them. I enjoyed Potions. The students are much more advanced than Hogwarts students, and it was refreshing to be partnered with someone who could keep up with me.

Tuesday morning I found out what Dumbledore had been trying to tell me about a friendly face at Durmstrang. Each student is given an advisor here. This is just a professor who looks out for anything you need and, as all the students warned me, keeps you in line if you fall behind in your studies or have any disciplinary issues. I was told I had an appointment with mine in the farthest part of campus—the basement corridor at the bottom of the large hill the school was on. They just call it Bottoms, as if it’s a world unto itself. I knew what office it was as soon as I saw the name: “Professor Miles Pruun”.   
“Hello, Professor Lupin,” I smiled and called as I entered. He looked surprised and then caught himself. “I should have known a simple anagram wouldn’t fool you, Hermione,” he said. I’m always proud of those comments from him. He’s become something of my unofficial mentor, though I know Harry would be a bit jealous to hear it. He briefed me on what he knew so far, which wasn’t much. Students had been sneaking out to cast the dark mark in the surrounding countryside, which escalated to students disappearing, only to be found returned and dead, covered in curse wounds. Families and students were getting anxious and no one trusted the headmaster to not be a part of it. 

Lupin gave me the portkey, an old book, to get back to Hogwarts, which he said was set to automatically take me back that night at 8:00 as long as it was on my person. I am also allowed to use it earlier, should danger arise, by drawing my finger along the spine of the book. He also showed me a portkey in his office, an old trunk that sat in the corner. It would take me to Grimmauld place, where he’d be to help. If I needed him, I could get him there. Lastly, he gave me a key to his office. It’s enchanted so it will only open the door if I’m the one holding it. Before I left, Lupin gave me a strict warning. Don’t go anywhere off-campus with anyone and don’t be alone with anyone or I could wind up as one of those dead students. I felt the weight of what I had agreed to, but I tried to shake off his warning.   
At dinner, I saw Viktor for the first time since his visit to Hogwarts. We had sent cordial letters a few times after he left, but we hadn’t spoken. He saw me and smiled. I melted. I couldn’t feel my elbows and knees. Dumbledore was right—he must have been told about me coming. He wasn’t at all surprised to see me. He had even brought a rose for me. All at once, I remembered what I saw in Viktor. He was kind and gentle. He was forgiving, and he liked me despite my being a bit mad in the head sometimes. After our silent dinner, he walked me outside. I briefly thought of Lupin’s warning, but this was Viktor! If he’d been anything to worry about, I would’ve known long before now. 

We walked along the perimeter of the grounds. The views were fantastic. I asked him about the Quidditch season so far and he asked me about my classes. He asked me about Ron. When I said we were still together, he smiled. He claims then it must be right and he is happy for me. The whole thing struck me as so gentle and compassionate. I missed that. We got talking so late, I missed the portkey back. When I realized it, I have to admit it, I was glad. I wanted to stay. I wanted a new start and to be the new me for good. 

We finally came back inside and Viktor asked me to come have a midnight snack with him. That’s when I saw Lupin. “Professor Pruun,” I said confidently, defiant for the first time in my life. He couldn’t force me to go back. I’d just have to stay another week. “Ms. Grant, when you are given an appointment with your advisor, you are required to attend,” he said to me in code. Viktor smirked, and grabbed for my hand.

“The mistake is all mine, Professor.” Viktor was trying to save me! “We were, ugh…studying.” Lupin eyed him with disdain. He threatened Viktor with failing grade that might sit him out of the next Quidditch match, and Viktor excused himself to go to bed. I tried to explain myself to Lupin, but he wouldn’t understand. He couldn’t. He thought I wanted to stay because I was gung-ho about the mission and wanted to be an overachiever. When he finally realized my level of resistance, he became much calmer. 

“Hermione,” he whispered, “we all must face our duty and our fate. This is bigger than you, but I promise, you will work everything out. I know you.” With that, he unexpectedly thrust the port key into my hand, and I arrived back here. I then snuck off to bed and cried myself to sleep. 

This morning, the boys were anxious to hear how my internship went. Needless to say, when I recited all the names and assignments, they were only interested in any blood and gore. I tried to bore them as much as possible, so they would stop asking questions. Ginny sat close enough to hear, and at one point, caught my eye. Her gaze lingered and I felt my body boiling with intensity. She was trying to read me. I didn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing me upset. I’d gained some perspective this weekend. I smiled, looked away, and excused myself. Just outside the great hall, I heaved my guts out. It was going to be a long week. But I’d made a few decisions. 

Dear journal, I figured out everything with Ginny. After seeing how gracious Viktor was after I broke off our relationship, I had a moment of insight. If Ginny doesn’t like me and wants to be just awful telling everyone about my mistakes with her, well then, she must not be right. I’m better off really, finding out now. I just need to keep telling myself that her actions say more about her than me.   
I also realized that I’m not ready for any kind of relationship right now. I’m not going anywhere with Ron, though I still love him. Not passionately like I felt about Ginny. It’s more like the feeling that he’ll always be a part of my life. 

I see now it’s a good thing Ginny acted how she did. I needed to figure things out, and this has helped me do just that. Ultimately, I’m an Order member. That’s an honor. I need to focus on my mission and not be distracted. Anyone can play with the teenage drama of dating. Who is given charge of a mission at sixteen years old? I’m lucky and I’ve always been smart. I need to start acting like it.

 

Wednesday, December 11th, 2019

Shit. I was wrong. I have nothing figured out. Can’t talk now, but I’ll tell you about it in the morning.


End file.
